


Bitten-into and never tasted

by GucciRhymesWithDucky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/F, Oral Sex Through Fabric, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GucciRhymesWithDucky/pseuds/GucciRhymesWithDucky
Summary: It's not on her own behalf that Hana second-guesses her liaisons. Zarya hopes to sway her. (Certainly, she makes a compelling case.)
Relationships: Hana "D.Va" Song/Aleksandra "Zarya" Zaryanova
Kudos: 9





	Bitten-into and never tasted

Not five minutes ago Hana had seemed excited; now she was having second thoughts. "You're not worried—" They stayed until they were the last two lingering in the Watchpoint hangar, and Hana was still on alert, head swiveling. "—about getting caught?" Looking for cameras dotting their surroundings. Used to cameras. Used to constant eyes. "I could—we could get in deep trouble."

"I am not," Zarya said. "And you will not." She leaned her arm on the hull of the girl's mech. Outside its pink shell, out of the fight, Hana was so small. Privately, Zarya thought Hana did not look like a soldier. She was fit and trim as befit a woman her age, but she was not fit like a soldier. Her MEKA commanders did not attire her like a soldier. Her mech suit, so thinly armored—not at all over her vitals—would hardly protect her body from bruising, her bones from crunching under the weight of metal. It lay skin-tight to her slender limbs. It held up her supple breasts up higher and pushed them closer. If you were looking more closely than you ought (less shamelessly than some did), you would see the way it hugged the mound of her cunt, biting uncomfortably between the lips if she was not very conscious of the way she moved. Zarya understood why. Hana Song was a celebrity before she was a soldier—and before either of those things, she was a beautiful young woman. And a beautiful young woman must be slender, supple, bitten-into.

Disgraceful, she thought, that the Korean army presented its premier anti-omnic squadron in such a way. But Zarya was also a warm-blooded woman, so she, too, relished Hana's body at a distance. And Hana carried herself with chipper ease, moved her hips with the languor of practice, composed and unbothered. But Hana, also, was a warm-blooded young woman, and Zarya had sensed eyes on her back more than once.

Hana crossed her ankle over her shin and fiddled with her wrist piece to avoid Zarya's eyes. In her cheeks bloomed cherry-red recognition of precisely how small she was beside Zarya. Her nipples fought to peak through the suit constraining them and won that fight with ease. "I-I think I change my mind," she said. "We shouldn't. Captain Myung will wring my neck." Made to be bitten into, and never to be tasted.

Zarya took a step back and watched something in Hana's face sink. "You can change your mind." She rolled her shoulders. "I only ask you to be honest with me. Tell me whether you don't want to—or whether you don't want to get _caught._ "

"How big a difference does that make in practice?"

"What if I can promise you will not get caught?" Zarya said. "That Captain Myung and your teammates need never know. Does your answer change?"

"You can't _promise_ that."

She grinned. "Assume I can. Tell me what happens if I do."

"I—frick."

Hana's stance was stiff, but she allowed Zarya nearer again, narrowing the air between them. Zarya's big fingers glided down Hana's trim flank and the crest of her hipbone. She twisted on her ankles, sucking in her belly. Her mech suit was impeccably engineered in some ways; if she sweated, bled, betrayed any of the uncomelinesses to which a woman might be prone, the suit was made to contain it. This was the way that Zarya found out Hana was soaking wet: by the slide and squish of the suit's crotch between Zarya's dry fingers and Hana's throbbing cunt.

Hana crossed her knees. "Please!"

"Please what?" Zarya took her hand back and awaited Hana's next move.

"Please—just—" If she was afraid to say it to the listening air—her eyes swept the hangar from corner to corner—then she said it with her dropping knee, the gap between her thighs—and her bobbing throat.

It was enough for Zarya to work with. She gripped Hana by the waist—Hana gasped to be thusly manhandled, and again when Zarya lay her out in the open cockpit of her mech on her back. Her hands pawed at the cockpit's roof for a grip. Her legs crooked over Zarya's shoulders; Zarya's broad arms embraced each thigh. Zarya's head was level with Hana's crotch. Even if the air between her legs smelled solely of vinyl, her heat radiated through her suit; this was the one thing they couldn't keep trapped inside. It warmed Zarya's lips when she mouthed Hana's crotch. It warmed her tongue as it mapped the shape of her cunt behind that barrier.

Hana choked on an "oh my god" before she thrust her knuckles into her mouth to silence herself. Smart girl.

Her clit stood at attention; Zarya felt it out easily with her mouth, grinning to roll her tongue against the nub. Hana squirmed her hips and clamped her thighs around Zarya's ears. Her slender feet hooked in the space between Zarya's shoulders; whenever Zarya made a pass with her tongue, her ankle ground into Zarya's back. The hand muffling Hana's mouth lowered but did not mute her voice; she could not keep lidded her little grunts whenever Zarya would push between her cunt lips. Shallower than Zarya liked. The taste was of nothing at all. Her superiors had done their best to make a plastic doll of her, but they could not stifle the heat of her human body, the wetness under her fake skin.

Hana came hard, fast, and quiet. Her cunt shuddered, her fingers half jammed down her throat to kill her moan, back arching, breasts popping, ankle digging a divot between Zarya's spine and shoulder blade. Her jelly knees trembled to keep their grip on Zarya, or she'd fall out of the cockpit outright.

Zarya brought Hana into her arms to ease her back down to her feet. Her lips were damp, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes came to focus. Her breath fogged on Zarya's chestplate.

"I feel…" She licked her lips. "… hot. Incredible, but… hot." When Zarya let her go, Hana swayed a little on the balls of her feet. She felt between her legs for some expected stickiness. All she would find was clear saliva beaded on the suit's exterior as rain on glass. "I kinda can't believe it's… over that fast."

The corner of Zarya's lip crinkled. "Next time, I will take my time with you."

"Oh my god, uh." Hana's eyes blew so wide one could see the hangar lights in them. In some self-consciousness of this she fixed them on the floor. "Thank you, I mean it. I just… don't know if there should be a next time."

"It's funny," Zarya said. "I have never known a young woman your age to be so preoccupied by what she should and shouldn't do." She said it lightly, but the way Hana winced, it clearly touched a nerve. Zarya understood why. By way of apology, she brushed the girl's sweat-dampened bangs back into place.

**Author's Note:**

> For "100 words of oral sex through fabric." I think this is actually the first time I've written out each beat of a sexual encounter from start to orgasm? Wow, maybe one day I'll write something where more than one person comes.


End file.
